


Biker Bar Sunday

by Calaphrass (SexyStripedTie)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 17-year-old Dean, Dean Winchester Makes Sacrifices For Sam Winchester, Dean-Centric, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Off-screen prostitution, Pretty Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SexyStripedTie/pseuds/Calaphrass
Summary: Dean’s seventeen. Dean’s seventeen and in a biker bar with a fake ID and a pitifully empty wallet, the contents of which hesworeshould have lasted Sam and him till Monday.





	Biker Bar Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> A ficlet that I wrote a while ago but never posted. Thank you for reading!  
> Someone please adopt these boys.
> 
> (Speaking of, nothing in this is even remotely explicit, but make sure you're comfortable with the warnings before reading!)

Dean’s seventeen. Dean’s seventeen and in a biker bar with a fake ID and a pitifully empty wallet, the contents of which he _swore_ should have lasted Sam and him till Monday.

Dad’s on a hunting trip. Sammy’s safe and sound back at the motel. And Dean? He’d left 20 minutes ago under the pretense of something involving burgers and research; Sam had bought it, anyway, and that’s what mattered.

The bartender is some hot curvy smokin’ lady with long wavy black hair and some color to her skin – definitely his type – but that’s not why he’s here, otherwise he would have started flirting her up the moment he slipped into the barstool.

He clears his throat. Shoots uneasy glances at the bikers and truckers around him every few minutes. He _knows_ they’re watching him, can feel their eyes on him like a mark that blisters, and he knows why - it’s because he’s pretty. He’s pretty, and so young, and more feminine and lean-looking than any hunter’s son has any right to be.

It sort of kills him, actually – he’s sure Dad looks at him differently because of it. But he also learned a year or two back that it can be _useful_.

Especially when it comes to putting much-needed food on the table for Sammy, which - honestly? Dad never seemed to be able to do anymore. The first priority was hunting the demon, of friggin course it was, but didn’t they factor into that equation somewhere too? Weren’t they a priority too? Wasn’t _Sam_? But Dad just didn’t seem to grasp that $50 every two weeks just wasn’t _enough_.

He swallows thickly and downs the rest of his beer. Hesitates, teetering on the edge of indecision and fighting down some sick, undefinable feeling welling in the back of his throat. Stands up.

He makes his way to the bathroom in the back, not bothering to check which one of the men follows him in.

He leaves ten minutes later $50 richer.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the rest of my stuff over at [my Tumblr](https://sexystripedtie.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
